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I thought I was doing " the right thing" last summer when I went to a psychiatrist to try to get some help for my extreme anxiety, panic attacks, and depression. August 20, 2012 at 12:35 pm, on my lunch break, sitting in my car parked on the edge of the lot of the office building where I work, under the overhanging branches of a linden so I could be in the shade. I made the phone call that has forever fucked up my life beyond any hope of repair. I won't ever forget that moment.

I thought I would be able to find some relief from the problems that were causing me so much distress. Instead, I have learned a lot from this, even though it has been a lesson in what not to do.

The psychiatric treatment system - what a joke. And I had "the best" available in my state, private pay/insurance. I went to a doctor who proved to be an incompetent nightmare. I got myself stuck in a day hospital program which did help somewhat - it helped undo some of the damage done to my fragile psyche by a cold, cruel physician who treated me like a criminal and traumatized me as much, if not more, than my buddy "death threat guy" whose threats to me in the course of just trying to do my job were what really pushed me over the edge.

I was trying to pull myself out of the quicksand and making some progress, feeling better about things. I "came out" to DU on the morning of 12/14 and was heartened by the outpouring of understanding and support. I thought, hey, things are going to be ok.

Little did I know that a heinous crime 600 miles away in CT would make all hell break loose for anyone in my position. Since then, it's been open season in the mentally ill.

Now, I have this permanent black mark on my name, bipolar/PTSD and the state is preparing to use this information against me and everyone like me. NY passed a law which turns mental health professionals into informants and patients into registered members of a class that includes felons, rapists, pedophiles. No one really knows where this information will lead.

Michigan has a rabid teabagger legislature that will no doubt write and enact similar legislation within months. I bet by April or May we have the same law here. Because, you know, guns are more important than "mental defectives" such as myself. Throw "those people" under the bus, who cares, "we aren't like them, those scary outsiders. They are other." That's the attitude.

Where does all of this leave me? Hopeless, broken, frightened out of my mind. Stigmatized, public enemy number one in the eyes of more than a few, even here on so-called "enlightened" DU. Dehumanized. No future.

If I knew then what I know now, I never would have made that phone call. Seeking psychiatric care has ruined me. If you don't think laws like NY will make thousands of people refuse to seek treatment for fear of being stuck with a permanent scarlet letter ....

Thanks for all of that. I guess I can't speak for anyone but myself. I should have just tried to "tough it out" no matter where that took me. Because anything is better than this living hell.

I'm not making fun of the mentally ill here and even some of the DUmmies are questioning this widdle tale...

I swear, people watch "The Prince Of Tides" and assume that psychiatry is really practiced the way Barbara Streisand's character in the movie does, although she sleeps with her patient's brother, which is ethically wrong, if not legally so. But they think that they will get some huggy experience and talking therapy, when there are drugs available to calm people down. You go to a psychiatrist because you need meds, you go to a therapist (MSW, MA/MS in psychology, pastor/rabbi/priest) if you just need to talk to someone about the stress in your life.

If the poster is truly bipolar, he needs a psychiatrist to prescribe meds and review his med levels and reactions on a monthly (and emergency) basis. He needs a therapist who works with the shrink to counsel him. That is how most mental health agencies in Michigan are set up. Only rich people with Blue Cross or cash can just call up a shrink and set an appointment. Everyone else has to go through his county mental health system's intake (which can be done in an emergency room, if necessary).

Another DUer ( like many before) goes to shrink who tells him the truth about himself and his problems, and the crazy little Moonbat is upset because the shrink doesn't reeforce all his Moonbat notions.

When I decided to do something about depression I went to 1 family doctor, who sent me to 1 psychiatrist, who prescribed 1 medication, which I took for 8 years at which time I slowly weaned myself off. But, then, I'm a conservative who doesn't watch "Survivor".